


culmination

by bulletdart



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 16:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12939489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletdart/pseuds/bulletdart
Summary: Tokugawa has a problem that just won't go away.





	culmination

“Stop following me.”

Ryoga throws his hands up in the air. “How many times do I have to repeat that I’m not following _you_?”

Kazuya frowns and crosses his arms. “As many times as it takes for you to stop following me.”

Ryoga’s arms fall to his sides in defeat. “Are you just willfully ignoring the emphasis I put on the _you_. I don’t care about you—I’m just trying to talk with, y’know, my actual brother.”

Kazuya bristles, although he’s not entirely sure which part of that statement he’s affronted by. “Then why are you standing here, talking to me, instead of following him back to the dorms?”

“You’re the one that stopped me,” Ryoga points out.

“Because you’re interrupting our practice sessions. You’re a distraction.”

Ryoga takes a step towards Kazuya and leans in. “To who? Chibisuke seemed to be doing just fine out there.” He frowns and looks away. “I might as well have not been here at all for all the attention he paid to me.”

“He doesn’t owe you any attention by nature of your blood relation.”

“And what?” Ryoga shoots back, “He owes it to you because you took a body shot for him?”

“Maybe you should give it a try sometime. Maybe then he’ll remember you.”

The muscles in Ryoga’s jaw clench as he takes another step towards Kazuya. “You’re deflecting. I’ve barely been within visual range of you guys this whole week. How could I be a distraction to you when Chibisuke didn’t even notice me?”

Kazuya banishes the memories of Ryoga hovering at the edge of his field of vision from his mind, waving away the thought of him reaching down to the hem of his shirt and using it to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, exposing his muscled torso. Kazuya doesn’t know why the memory still haunts him, when he’s (unfortunately) seen Irie and Oni and all his other teammates naked more times than he can count, but he vividly remembers the ball he missed, the triumphant grin on Ryoma’s face, the slight smirk he could’ve sworn he saw on Ryoga’s.

He blinks again and the present Ryoga is _definitely_ smirking. Kazuya’s frown deepens. “If I had to guess, I’d say that you already know the answer to your own question.”

Ryoga grins devilishly and Kazuya feels a jolt of electricity run through his body. “But it’s so much less fun than getting you to say it.”

“Who said anything about having fun?” Kazuya moves to take a step back and finds his back pressed against a wall. Ryoga slams his palm next to Kazuya’s face and he barely restrains himself from flinching. He may have a full nine centimeters over the other, but somehow, he feels overwhelmed by his presence.

Ryoga leans in close to his ear, close enough that he can feel his breath on the side of his face. “Y’know, Tokugawa, I might’ve been lying a little earlier.” Kazuya subtly attempts to maneuver his way around Ryoga, but the other steps even closer to him and Kazuya swears that he can feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“It’s not that I don’t care about you. In fact, I do care. I care about how much you seem to care about me, sticking your pretty nose in my family’s business.” Ryoga pulls back slightly to make direct eye contact. “What are your intentions with my brother?”

Kazuya holds back a shiver and places a hand on Ryoga’s (hard, warm) chest, but not quite pushing him away. “To raise the level of his tennis. That’s all. He has potential. Surely you can see that, even if you’ve been absent from his life for so long.”

Ryoga presses himself in even closer and Kazuya can almost feel their hearts beat faster in unison. “Then in that case, what are your intentions with _me?”_

“My _what_.”

“I know perfectly well you heard me right the first time, Tokugawa. I’m the odd one out at this training camp, and yet not a single person has paid more attention to me than you have.”

“No one else has been hounded by you for every waking second of their life.”

“Don’t exaggerate. Why are you even so bothered by me anyway? Nobody else has a problem with me. Is it my face?”

“Why would I have a problem with your face?”

“I don’t know,” Ryoga says sarcastically, “maybe I’m just too handsome for you to stand looking at.”

Well—

“You don’t have to look at my face if you close your eyes.” Kazuya closes his eyes almost reflexively and, a couple seconds later, he feels the chaste pressure of chapped lips on his.

Kazuya’s eyes snap open and he fists his hand into Ryoga’s shirt, spinning around to slam him into the wall. Ryoga doesn’t fight back, expression slightly dazed, but, oddly enough, smug.

“So?”

Kazuya opens his mouth to retaliate, then closes it again, then brings it down to press a searing kiss to Ryoga’s lips. The other boy laughs victoriously against his lips and reciprocates almost immediately, tongue immediately slipping out of his mouth to slide against Kazuya’s.

Kazuya groans and opens up the kiss, letting go of Ryoga’s shirt and moving his hand to cup his jaw. Ryoga grins into the kiss and brings his hands up to rest on the small of Kazuya’s back. They deepen the kiss and Kazuya moves in closer, pressing their bodies up against each other. He feels almost as if he could burst into flames with all of the heat he feels like they’re radiating, but he can’t bring himself to care as he pulls back from the kiss to take a breath and peppers some light kisses on Ryoga’s jaw.

Ryoga laughs slightly and squirms in his hold. “Ticklish?” Kazuya asks.

“Shut up.”

“No, it’s. Kind of cute.”

“Me? Cute?” Ryoga’s eyes gleam.

“Shut up,” Kazuya repeats back to him. So Ryoga does, leaning up off the wall to pull Kazuya down into another kiss.

After what feels like just a second—but was certainly minutes—Kazuya takes a deep breath and steps back, leaving Ryoga to lean back against the wall, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glazed over. It’s a good look on him, he thinks. Ryoga blinks and clarity seeps back into his eyes.

“So,” he begins, “do you still want me to stop following you?”

“Yes,” Kazuya deadpans, but he reaches forward and laces his right hand with Ryoga’s left and pulls him off the wall.

“Just walk with me instead.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is bad and unbetaed but i just wanted to get something out of my system god i'm so thirsty pls talk to me on twitter about them @shirakaya


End file.
